Unrelated ficlets
by saltedshotgun
Summary: Exactly what is says on the tin - a collections of ficlets (and drabbles) under 1,000 words. Each chapter is a different ficlet - please see chapter notes for detailed summaries, ratings and warnings.
1. Chapter 1

**The one where Castiel tries to cheer Dean up, and Dean decides to indulge him.**  
Dean, Cas. Gen. PG-13.

Set in an AU after a perfect, imaginary ending of S8, except Cas isn't conveniently "not-crazy" again. Basically, it's post-S8 with S7!Cas? IDEK. Written for roseonabeach, who asked for _"Amuse me. Dean and Cas. Cas trying to cheer up Dean."_ It didn't exactly work out that way, but I hope she'll like it, anyway!

Honestly, sometimes I think my brain is actually crazier than crazy!Cas's.

* * *

"Cas. What the hell." There's blood rushing through his head as Dean tries to get his bearings. He hates the angel-transport - and Cas knows it, and he still does it to Dean, anyway. They would be doing something normal and mundane, like eating breakfast, or interrogating for a case, and Cas would grip Dean's shoulder or his forearm - and that one time, even Dean's hand - and spirit them elsewhere.

Dean takes a look around him, then, and let's out a low breath. "Did you take me to the - the fucking - "

"Disneyland," Cas replies. He stands next to Dean, calm and collected, looking around.

Dean gapes for a second before he turns back to Cas, just about ready to have a minor screaming match with him. All his complaints die in his throat when he sees the look on Cas's face.

Their lives have been insane for months now, filled with blood and lies and exhaustion. Dean's been running on fumes, Cas has been running on crazy again, and Sam's been just about ready to run whichever way his feet would carry him. They've been drifting from hunt to hunt ever since Naomi finally swore to leave them alone and fucked off to wherever. With even Crowley gone, locked up in Hell with the rest of his demon goons, everything that's been pressuring the Winchesters into action has been taken care of.

And without a mission they started drifting, none of them really sure how to live without a goal. Cas regressed back to how he was before Purgatory soon after that; distracted and wide-eyed in wonder and denial, and that's how he stands in the middle of the park, next to the - Dean sighs - Mad Tea Party ride.

"You looked sad," Cas says, then, after a moment of silence. "It has been brought to my attention that the Disneyland theme park is a good place to go to if one needs cheering up."

'But I'm not a six years old girl,' Dean wants to tell him, but doesn't. Cas looks hopeful; his eyes are wide and mouth curled into a soft smile. He looks younger than Dean ever remembers him looking; the aura of an ancient creature that Cas used to carry around him is gone - and has been, actually, ever since Cas healed Sam and broke himself in the process - and instead he looks curious and excited.

Maybe Dean isn't the only one in need of cheering up.

"Yeah," Dean croaks. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Cas smiles at him, then, like making Dean feel better is his one and only goal in life and he just succeeded on all fronts.

Dean feels as out of place among the little kids in Mickey Mouse shirts and their parents as Cas probably looks, but he smiles back anyway. "Let's get ice cream, then" he says. "You ever had ice cream before?"

Cas shakes his head. Dean grabs him by the forearm and tugs him forward. Alright. Let's go get some ice cream, and then we'll take a look at the Star Wars ride."


	2. Chapter 2

**The one where Sam is, potentially, the angriest vengeful spirit to ever spirit.**  
Sam, Dean. Sam/Dean, Dean/OMC. R.

Oh my fucking god, I wrote something R-rated. Also, Wincest. Takes place after S2 where, obviously, the crossroad deal didn't pan out and Sam stayed dead. Kind of. Written for anon on tumblr who asked for _"Haunt me: Wincest."_ Obviously, my mind immediately went to 'ghost!Sam stalking Dean while Dean has rebound sex!' Yep.

* * *

Sam wonders if it's a new phenomenon, Dean picking up random guys in random bars, or if it's something that's always been happening and he's just never noticed.

He watches Dean tip his head back as the guy nips at his neck, both of them drunk and sloppy and uncoordinated.

Sam might be dead, but he's not stupid or blind. He sees that all the guys Dean picks, or lets himself be picked by, are tall and shaggy-haired. He hears it when Dean says Sam's name everytime he comes, when he's bent over for them and vulnerable.

Sam watches as the guy drives into Dean from behind and pants into his ear, gripping him by the hips; he watches as Dean pushes back onto his cock and grits his teeth. 'It could have been us,' Sam thinks. 'If only you weren't so stupid, and such a coward. It could have been us.'

Right now Dean is sitting on the edge of the bed, alone in the motel room. The guy's already gone and Dean sits in the dark and smokes, the ashtray balanced on his naked thigh. He's clutching at his hair, eyes cast downwards.

Sam can make out the hard lines of Dean's body, the soft flesh of Dean's dick between his legs, as he stands before him.

Sam is still weak and he can't do much. Few days ago he made the lights flicker, once, twice; it gave Dean a pause but then he shrugged it off. It made Sam feel frustrated and angry.

He doesn't like it when Dean ignores him. He doesn't like it when Dean lets strangers fuck him when it so easily could have been Sam. If only Dean has said something, if only Dean hasn't been so bent on keeping this to himself and making their lives miserable in result.

Sam is weak now, but he's getting stronger. One day, Sam will be strong enough to be the one who makes Dean gasp and writhe.


	3. Chapter 3

**The one where Castiel drinks and, apparently, thinks that alcohol is for free.**  
Cas. Gen. PG.

... Aka the one where I'm confused about the correct usage of the word 'bar.'

Takes place after **5x10 Abandon All Hope**, so canon character deaths are mentioned. It's kind of... S5!Cas with S8!Cas's mentality? IDEK. I was wondering how Cas was handling Ellen and Jo's deaths, because I always had the feeling that he was fond of them, and this is what happened. Written for Bruce who asked for "Drink me" (and also "Quiet me" but that one is still in the works.)

* * *

Castiel walks into the bar alone. It's dark already but not too late yet, and the bar is half empty. Castiel looks around; just a few teenagers, a few drunks and the waiting staff. No one dangerous.

He's left the Winchesters at Bobby Singer's house under the watchful eye of the old hunter. They were grieving and miserable - Sam more than a little drunk, Dean depressed and concussed from Lucifer's blow on top of that - when Castiel left. No one said anything but Castiel was aware that they blamed him for Harvelles' deaths.

They were right to do so. He should have been around to help. He shouldn't have gone away on his own, he shouldn't have let Lucifer trap him. He should have escaped sooner.

Castiel didn't deserve to be in their company and to intrude on their grief, and he didn't want to be under their blaming gazes, either. And so he left.

He flew without direction or care, and the little run-down bar appeared before him as a surprise, out of nowhere. 'What the hell,' Castiel thought as he walked in. 'The world is ending, anyway.'

He sits behind the bar and waits.

"What's it gonna be?" the bartender asks him. She's smiling and her eyes are kind when Castiel looks up at her.

"I do not particularly care," he replies. He's aware of how rough his voice sounds, and is not surprised when the bartender gives him a sympathetic look.

"Rough day, huh?" she asks offhandedly and reaches under the bar to pull out a bottle, pouring some of it into a glass before sliding it in front of Castiel.

He doesn't need to read her mind to know that she isn't interested in his day or his hardships, not really. She asks because it's polite, because it's a part of her job, and Castiel realizes he doesn't care. "Friends of mine have died today," he says and drinks his glass in one long swig.

The bartender stops what she's doing for a briefe second and turns back to Castiel. "Oh," she says. "Well, that's... I'm sorry to hear that. Really." She seems uncomfortable, fidgeting in place; she's young, Castiel notices, and probably new at this job. "You want some more of that?" She points at the bottle.

Castiel nods. "It was my fault," he adds.

The bartender pours him another glass before she speaks. "I'm sure that's not true. It's not like you, you know... Killed them, is it?"

"I might as well have," Castiel says. "The blame falls on my shoulders." It feels freeing, somehow, to say it out loud. It doesn't ease the guilt, however.

The bartender eyes him warily for a second. "Hey, you're not gonna get completely plastered and trash the place, are you?" she asks and Castiel shakes his head.

"It takes more than two glasses of whiskey to get me drunk."

"Good," the bartender says and slides the glass in front of him again. "Drink up, then. Guess you need it."

Castiel does. He tips the glass backwards and lets the liquid slide down his throat, remembering how not even a day ago he did this with Jo and Ellen watching him, laughing.

The bartender bites at her lower lip. "Alright," she says when Castiel sets the empty glass back on the bar. "I think you should switch to something lighter or you're gonna end up under the table. Or throwing up, and I really don't wanna be cleaning up your mess." She dives under the bar for another bottle, and Castiel sighs.

"I suppose I should go," he says. He has a lot to do, a lot to amend for, if he ever can. He doesn't even bother to slide off the barstool before he takes flight.

When the bartender straightens her back Castiel is already gone. She blinks, opens and closes her mouth. "Hey," she says faintly and looks around, looking for the sad man she's been serving their finest whiskey.

Her voice grows louder when she realizes that he's nowhere in sight, gone without paying. "Hey!" she screams loud enough for several customers to look her way. "You've got to be kidding me!"


End file.
